


Lockdown at Hartfield

by FallenStar22



Category: Emma - Jane Austen
Genre: (but Knightley isn't like sixteen years older than Emma like he is in the book), Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, COVID, Characters Playing Among Us (Video Game), F/M, Gen, M/M, Modern Era, Student!Emma, ace!Emma, demiromantic!Emma, quarantining, queen rona reigns supreme, student!Elton, student!Harriet, teacher!Jane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29763798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenStar22/pseuds/FallenStar22
Summary: When the world goes to shit in March 2020, Emma gets sent home from uni, Knightley comes to stay at Hartfield, Harriet takes endless walks and Missy Bates won't stop posting in the Box Hill Neighbourhood Facebook group.And where is Frank in all this? Pretending his wifi is bad until he can get a haircut of course.The Emma Lockdown fic nobody asked for.
Relationships: Anne Weston/Mr. Weston, Frank Churchill/Jane Fairfax, George Knightley/Emma Woodhouse, Robert Martin/Harriet Smith
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Lockdown at Hartfield

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oreal770](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oreal770/gifts).



> For my dear beta Maddy, who is forever encouraging me to write, and for Sophie, who unravels all my plot knots when I get stuck.

“They’re _quarantining_ together,” said Emma, chasing after Knightley as he left the kitchen. “I told you it was a good plan.” 

Emma had finally convinced her two closest friends, Taylor and Wes, to go on a date at the beginning of March. Emma was worried they’d left it too late to form a bond when the UK went into lockdown, but the fact that they’d decided to move in together proved they were destined for each other. 

“Emma,” sighed Knightley, not bothering to look over his shoulder as he entered the makeshift office, “they made the decision to quarantine together, you had nothing to do with it.” Knightley sat down at his new “desk” (Emma’s old vanity) and opened his laptop ready to start work for the day. 

When Knightley’s company sent him home from work, her dad wouldn’t hear of him living alone in his tiny one bed flat and rang him up straight away to demand he come back to Highbury. Donwell Abbey - his family home - wasn’t an option as the Martins were currently renting it while both Knightleys were in London, so Hartfield it was. He moved straight back into the bedroom he used to share with John whenever the pair stayed at Hartfield when they were younger. When there was flour in the supermarkets again, Emma promised to bake him a Welcome Home cake. (In the meantime, ginger nuts had to do.)

Knightley had claimed an old games room on the ground floor and within a few days had scattered sheets of scribbled designs. There were also piles of post in various stages of isolation before they were allowed into the main house. If Emma’s dad had his way they’d all be left outside for at least ten days, but Emma didn’t want any of her things getting damp and they’d run out of space in the entryway.

Emma followed him into the repurposed office and swung herself on to the desk, bum nearly brushing Knightley’s hand where he was holding the mouse. “If I hadn’t suggested they plan my birthday party together they never would have realised they were perfect for each other and decided to date.”

Knightley elbowed her thigh and glared at her with furrowed eyebrows as he tugged some sheets of paper out from under her arse. “They’ve been part of the same friendship circle for ten years now, it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“Any later and they’d be stuck quarantining alone. It was all thanks to my matchmaking skills that they decided to date in the first place.”

Knightley twisted away from Emma to tuck his chair under the desk and logged in. “Meddling, Emma, it’s called meddling,” he said, scrolling through the new emails in his inbox.

Emma reached over and rearranged locks of his dark brown hair, running her hand through the too long strands to detangle it before flipping his parting a couple of times. 

Knightley finally put a stop to it by flattening his hair back down the way it was before. 

“You know people can still see your hair over video right? You could at least try washing it.” She wiped the grease off on her leggings. “And this t-shirt has a hole in it.” She lifted the seam of his shoulder with her fingertips. “Please let me cut your hair? Please? I promise you’ll look great afterwards.”

“Alright Emma, let me get on with work.” He flapped an arm out in her direction to try and push her off the table, but she slapped it away with ease. “Some of us actually have things to do.”

“It’s not my fault I got sent home from uni and they haven’t worked out how to put lectures online yet.” After going home for the Easter holidays, Emma had been told not to come back and had spent the last few weeks making half arsed attempts at studying for her summer exams. With biology labs cancelled, there was all this extra spare time Emma didn’t know what to do with. Reading about someone else doing an experiment didn’t take half as long. 

Emma dragged her feet out of Knightley’s office and into the kitchen, reorganising the cutlery drawer for a bit before heading into the pantry to see if she could hunt down some flour. 

At around 10, Knightley came into the kitchen to refill his water, peering into the oven to see what Emma had in store for them today. “God, Emma, that smells incredible, is any of that for me?”

Emma turned from where she was whisking the icing and replied, “Banana muffins. I’ll drop one off in about ten minutes.”

“I’m about to jump on to a meeting so leave it outside my door, yeah?” He didn’t want any more of his colleagues assuming Emma was his partner. 

“Sure.” Emma sent him a smile and resumed her whisking, adding vanilla essence. 

“You’re the best.” Knightley came over and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head from behind, sneaking a dollop of icing on to his finger and whirling away before Emma had a chance to elbow him. 

“I hate you. I’m giving you less icing for that!” he heard Emma shout as left the kitchen. 

  
  


\----

  
  


Emma slammed the fridge door shut after retrieving some leftover lasagne for lunch and her dad’s shielding letter fluttered off. She grabbed it off the floor (which had more crumbs on it than usual) and stuck it back next to the letter about Dad’s heart surgery being delayed. She plonked his tablets and a glass of water in front of him while their food was microwaving. “You need to take these with food Dad, it’s more important now than ever.”

Knightley always had a meeting on Tuesday. He darted out of his room with his headphones still on and mouthed a thanks at Emma as he took a plate from her. Emma resigned herself to sitting with her dad outside as he droned on and on about the correct hand washing technique, how many cases Highbury had, and what the latest government plan was to save them from this dystopian nightmare. 

Emma normally loved spending time with her dad, but being stuck at Hartfield with him twenty four seven was exhausting. He already had a propensity to worry about everyone’s health, but COVID had him antibaccing everything that came through the door before anyone was allowed to touch it and nobody was allowed even near the grounds unless they’d been quarantining for two weeks. His hands were so dry and scratchy that every time he gave her a goodnight kiss, they got caught in her hair. 

  
  


\----

  
  


Emma hopped down the stairs after Knightley, hearing the kettle ding just as she reached the bottom step. 

Her dad was already in the kitchen as usual, needing less sleep in his old age. “Tea, Emma?” he asked, while passing a cup of vile peppermint tea over to Knightley. “It’s good for your stomach.” He held up the mug to her, Pantone Orange, her favourite, and she reluctantly took it from him.

“Sure Dad.” As soon as her dad’s back was turned, Emma stuck two fingers down her throat and fake gagged at Knightley. 

He just smirked at her and said, “I heard doctors officially prescribe peppermint tea for any kind of stomach pain nowadays.”

Emma smiled through clenched teeth and tried to resist chucking into the nearest plant. At least they still had frozen pastries to look forward to - they were a habit from the first week of lockdown when Emma said they deserved something nice to get through this, and _this_ hadn’t ended yet. 

As soon as they were out of the oven, she delivered one to her dad with a fresh cup of tea, and then headed to Knightley’s ‘office’ with two plates balanced in her hands. She dropped Knightley’s on his desk and leant over his shoulder to read his email. “You spelt aluminium wrong, honestly how does anyone take you seriously when you can’t spell a material you work with every day.”

“I assure you Emma, people at work take me very seriously, it’s just you who doesn’t listen.”

Emma munched on her croissant, unaware of the crumbs she was scattering in Knightley’s hair. “Only because your email is so dry, it wouldn’t hurt to lighten it up a little. Let me show you.” Emma reached her buttery fingers towards the keyboard but Knightley grabbed her hand. 

“Not a chance. Go wash your hands and go find another project. You love those.” The house was littered with half finished paintings, tapestries, cross-stitches, you name it. Knightley was running out of synonyms for nice. 

  
  


\----

  
  


Taylor always called her straight after the briefings, and Emma shot up the stairs to take the call in the privacy of her own room. 

“Hey!” 

Emma’s heart warmed at hearing her best friend’s voice again. “Hey you! How’s life in honeymoon land?”

“Boringly domestic.” Emma could hear the tap running in the background. “Although it sounds like you know all about that.”

Emma sure did. They all had their chores: she had breakfast and lunch, Knightley dinner and her dad the washing up. “It feels like we’ve all been living here for years.”

“Who would have thought that this time a couple of months ago you were out clubbing.” 

Emma couldn’t really believe it herself. All her friends had been complaining constantly about how much they missed uni and clubbing. Emma tried to relate, she really did, but she found she loved being at home with her dad. Home was just, home. Halls were grotty, clubs were sticky and boys liked to get too handsy when the lights were low. But for her friends’ sake, especially Elton who was stuck in Bath by himself, she pretended she missed it too and that she wished she was still locked down with them in their pokey student house. He texted her nearly every day saying how sad he was that Emma was over in Highbury while he was still in Bath. 

“I miss you more than I miss clubbing,Taylor. ” Emma trailed her fingers one by one along the dust on her dresser. They hadn’t had a cleaner in ages.

Emma heard the quiet closing jingle of Knightley’s regular podcast float up the stairs. “I should go. Knightley’s making quesadillas for dinner and they’re nearly ready. I better help with the guacamole.” She brushed off the dust on her leggings but stayed where she was, lifting her head to look in the white framed mirror. 

“I can’t believe Knightley’s convinced your dad to eat mexican food, he never did that for me!” They’d all changed during lockdown. Emma stared at her face in the mirror - her skin was clearer than it had ever been thanks to a lack of alcohol and late night studying snacks but her roots were growing out and Emma wasn’t sure if she was brave enough to try a home dye. 

“What can I say, we all have to make sacrifices in the pandemic. Knightley refuses to eat meat every day, and Dad refuses to cook so… it’s good for the environment though I guess.” Emma opened her door and could immediately smell the mouth watering chilli. Knightley was a surprisingly good cook for someone who simply followed instructions. 

“Say hello to them both from me,” said Taylor fondly. 

Emma started down the stairs, sliding her hand down the bannister slowly as she descended. “Expect a two hour call from my dad this evening about the vitamins you need to stock up on.”

Emma heard Taylor chuckle as she pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up.

  
  


\----

  
  


According to Isabella, there were only two kinds of people in lockdown: those who had children, and those who didn’t. 

“Home schooling is just so difficult,” said Isabella, her face wobbling on Emma’s phone screen as she tried to balance it against the kettle. Emma got a wide angle of the entire shaker style kitchen, including her dear niece and namesake, Emma, before it stabilised on her sister’s face again. “They send over so much stuff from school, there’s no way the kids can do all those worksheets in one day, they just want to look like they teach them loads so we don’t feel like we’re being ripped off for the extortionate amount of money we pay.” Isabella fretted from cupboard to cupboard, taking out dishes and putting at least half of them back. 

“Bella-“ Emma tried to cut in, watching Baby Em dunk her hand into her bowl of beans and scatter them all over the highchair. 

Isabella continued on, “Don’t have kids Emma, they might just break you.” Emma nodded her head hypnotically to the beat of Em rocking her bowl back and forth. “Honestly, get an au pair if you ever have kids, they’ll save your life. I’ve never appreciated Anna more than I do now that she’s gone. They always say that don’t they?” Em was taking particular delight in how many beans fell out of the bowl each time... “About how you don’t miss something until it’s gone. ”

Emma tried nodding more quickly, hoping that if Isabella felt understood she might stop going on and on- _smack_! Too late. Em had tipped the bowl over splattering beans and tomato sauce over every surface of the kitchen and all over herself. Her once cherubic blond ringlets were dripping with red sauce. 

Isabella whirled around and her hand flew to her mouth. She groaned before rushing over to Em and gingerly lifting her out of the seat. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Isabella didn’t wait for an answer. 

For a few moments, Emma could only see the marble island as she heard the scuffles of Isabella wrestling Em out of her leggings. From the few times she’s tried it herself, Emma didn’t envy her. 

Isabella unceremoniously dumped Em in the sink before disappearing off camera again and Emma waited for her sister to return, watching Em splash suds in her hair to join the sauce. 

Happy gurgles escaped the baby’s mouth and Emma tried talking to her niece. “Haven’t you made a big mess? What are we going to do with you?” Emma might as well have been talking to the tap for all Em paid her any attention.

After a few minutes of splashes but not very many words, Emma called out to her sister, “I’ll leave you to clean up Em. Call me later? Yeah?” The background shuffling went quiet. “We miss you.”

  
  


\----

  
  


When they returned from their post-dinner digestion walk, Dad was first in the door as usual, pulling his phone out of his pocket before he’d even taken his coat off. Knightley paused at the front door, looking up at the still blue sky. It was a deep blue and streaked with a few wisps of pink, something Emma never paid much attention to until the only place she could go for fun was outside. 

Emma turned back to look at him, watching the furrow between his eyebrows grow deeper. “You coming in?”

“Yeah, just taking my last breath of freedom for the day.” He looked as if he was trying to bottle the fresh air in his memory for twenty three hours until they were allowed to go outside again. He finally stepped in and shut the door, shoving it with his shoulder to fit the old wooden door into its warped frame. “Anyone up for Trivial pursuit?” Knightley knew better than to suggest the only other board game in the Woodhouse collection; there was only so much Monopoly you could play before you all hated each other. 

“Not with Dad, he’s memorised all of the answers, I can’t play with him anymore,” replied Emma, unzipping her long boots and shuffling around Knightley to chuck them beside the door. 

Dad was already half way down the hallway, one arm tangled in the sleeve of his coat, the other hand holding his phone up to his face. He stared intently at the tiny screen he often scolded Emma for being addicted to. “I just need to call Isabella first, she hasn’t replied to my good morning text yet.” Emma helped him tug his arm out of his sleeve he was caught in, and slid his coat off his other shoulder while patiently waiting for him to finish inspecting Isabella’s last message again. “Have either of you heard from them today?” He looked up at Knightley and Emma and frowned as they both shook their heads. “What if something has happened to her or the kids?” Emma finally got him free of his coat, and he immediately took off up the stairs without a word of thanks. 

She hooked it onto a peg and rolled her eyes at Knightley, who shrugged at her in return. “He’ll be worse when you leave. You’re his favourite.” 

Emma was never planning to leave Hartfield. Especially now with remote working, she could work from home and pop into London on the train every other week. In some ways, the pandemic had actually made things better rather than worse. “Don’t underestimate him when you leave. You should see how often he worries about Taylor and he’s only known her for the last fifteen years.” The way Knightley fit right into their merry household of two, Emma wasn’t sure how _she_ would cope when he left. Emma concentrated rubbing her toe over a single shiny tile that had needed replacing.

Knightley nudged her with his shoulder. “Still up for hanging out together?” 

“Brooklyn 99?” asked Emma hopefully, already walking backwards to the narrow service stairs that led to the cinema room in the converted attic. 

“You are addicted to that show,” Knightley joked, following her up the stairs. 

“Says the person watching it for the third time,” quipped Emma, grinning as she grabbed a packet of popcorn and settled on the sofa. “You just want to spend time with me.” She folded her knees underneath her, wiggling her toes between Knightley’s thigh and the sofa to keep them warm.

“Yeah, yeah.” Knightley reached over to grab a handful of popcorn from her lap. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  
  


\----

  
  


Emma scowled at her laptop screen. Her essay on gene mutations in chickens scowled back. She had only just realised she’d mixed up one of the letters when her phone buzzed. 

**_Missy Bates > Box Hill Neighbourhood_ ** _Don’t forget Clap for Carers today at 8pm. We here in Highbury want to thank all NHS workers for their hard work during this difficult time. They are truly an inspiration for us all to look up to. My own dear niece @Jane Fairfax is doing a fantastic job serving our country as a key worker teacher, we couldn’t do it without you Jane dear! Lots of love Auntie Missy._

Emma rolled her eyes and flipped her phone over. It was cringey the first time Missy posted the reminder in the Facebook group and it was downright nauseating the sixth. Perfect Jane out saving the world one colouring in lesson at a time, how revolutionary. 

  
  


\----

  
  


Scribbling the last sentence in her essay, Emma dropped her pen onto her notes and stretched her arms above her head, peering outside the window. The sun beamed down from a cloudless sky, a perfect day for strolling through the countryside of Highbury. Her eyes fell to the wilted flowers on her windowsill and she decided that she definitely needed to throw them out today. She couldn’t squeeze another day out of them, even though the next delivery wasn’t for another two days. As she slipped out the front door for a walk, she took a deep breath of fresh air, chucking the flowers into a bush and reveling in the slight breeze on her face. Knightley had swapped his evening walks for morning jogs and her dad coughed once last week and had decided to self isolate. 

A gorgeous border collie stopped to run around her legs, and she longed to pet it but instead gave the owner a broad smile and crossed the road. She couldn’t imagine living in London like Knightley did, where strangers rushed past you and nobody bothered to say hello. Missy Bates and her mum waved at her from across the street and Emma wiggled her fingers back, promptly turning off the highstreet towards the fields that led back to her house. The last time Emma bumped into them on a walk, Missy nattered on for half an hour about how stiff her back was. Emma needed new friends. 

As Emma reached the field, she saw a young blond woman walking towards her. On the few times Emma had bumped into her on walks, she always gave Emma a small smile while keeping her distance, but Emma didn’t remember ever seeing her around Highbury before. Maybe she was an American exchange student called Darcy who had come to study English History and was learning about the Tudors and the Victorians for the first time. Or she could be an au pair from Europe looking after the Perry children, with a lover back at home that she could only video call. She looked around the same age as Emma, normally wearing leggings and a cardi that Emma was sure some of the older lot in the village would have something to say about (especially Missy Bates, she always had a lot to say about everything). 

Today was no exception, when Emma reached the young woman she was wearing another legging/cardigan combo that matched her blue eyes. Emma gave the woman a larger smile than normal when she stopped and carefully stepped on the nettles to give Emma enough space to safely pass on the footpath. Emma usually rushed on as quickly as possible to minimise air time, but today the woman looked tired and her normally curly hair was in a frizzy mess on top of her head - maybe she needed someone to talk to but was too shy to reach out. Her dad always taught her to be confident and help people in need. Emma stopped two metres away and said, “Hi, I’m Emma.”

The woman paused and looked around at the empty field behind her before returning her gaze to Emma. “Harriet,” she said hesitantly with a soft British accent, “Harriet Smith.”

Emma grinned at her, racking her brains for a conversation starter that wasn’t about COVID. “Do you live near here?” It wasn’t her best, but she was rusty. Emma was so used to the uni spiel of “what course? What year? Which halls?” that she could hardly remember how people used to make friends before all this. 

Harriet stopped shuffling and straightened up. “Yeah, I live just above the cafe. My foster mum lets me live there rent free if I look after the cafe when I’m not at college. Goddard’s? Just near the florist.” Harriet pointed her thumb back towards the village. “Are you local as well?”

Local was an understatement. “This is practically my back garden - I live over there.” Emma pointed at Hartfield. It looked like a toy house from here, with two big trees planted in front to frame the door. 

Harriet’s eyes grew wide. “You live _there_?” 

“Well not just me, of course, with my dad and my brother-in-law. He’s staying with us for lockdown.” 

Harriet nodded politely and looked wistfully at the path Emma had just come down. 

Emma didn’t want her to leave. This was the first real life conversation she’d had with someone other than her dad or Knightley in weeks. “Did you say you were a student? Me too. Which college are you at?” Maybe she was at one of the Oxbridge ones.

“Oh, Highbury College, just the one down the road.” Harriet blushed and looked down at her feet before answering, “I’m studying Art, I want to be a painter someday.”

“Art! Oh wow!” Art, Emma could totally work with that. “Have you ever been to Florence? I think you’d love it. You should totally go once you’ve finished your course…”

  
  


\----

  
  


It was mid May when Emma came bounding down the stairs, jumping the last two and landing with a thud. She nearly slid on the tiled hallway floor, reaching the coat rack by the time her dad had poked his head out from the kitchen. “Emma, what on earth?”

She pulled on her sandals as quickly as she could, breathlessly replying, “I’m going to meet Harriet. We’re allowed to meet people outside now.” She looked back down at her shoe, finally managing to thread the strap before jumping up towards the cupboard. 

“Emma, be careful.” called Dad as Emma hunted around for a picnic blanket. “And don’t forget to keep two metres apart!” He yelled as she flew out of the front door, pausing only to squirt some antibac in her hand before whizzing off.

Emma beamed as soon as she saw Harriet outside the cafe, almost running to give her new best friend a hug before catching herself in time. Harriet was looking better than she did the first day she met her, the daily walks giving her a bit of colour, but her hands were stained in paint and her dress no better than a baggy sack. They’d have to go shopping in town as soon as they were allowed to. 

Despite only meeting once properly in person, Emma found it super easy to pick up straight where they left off last night on their video call. “All the museums in Berlin are amazing, except you have to go on a Tuesday, ‘cause all the museums are closed on a Monday. Oh my god, you could get a cute beret and wear a stripy shirt while painting the Seine. It would be so Parisien. Did I tell you about Venice? I did, didn’t I? I think you’d love Venice.” Harriet tucked in behind Emma as they passed a couple walking a dog, and continued behind her as the path narrowed next to the small stream. 

“You must think I’m so boring, nothing new ever happens these days.” said Emma, filling the silence that had fallen. 

“Well,” Harriet began hesitantly, after Emma didn’t start talking again. “I have new news. Robbie asked me on a date. A socially distanced one, of course, it’d just be a walk around the park.”

“Robbie?” asked Emma incredulously, swirling around so quickly Harriet stumbled back to stay a safe distance apart. “Robbie _Martin_?” A small snort escaped Emma as she stomped on the overgrown grass to the side of the narrow path to give them a bit more room. After all their conversations, Harriet had to know this wouldn’t be okay with Dad. Robbie worked at a supermarket for god’s sake, it was the most common place to catch COVID! 

Harriet clearly didn’t know that from the way she continued, “I just wanted to check with you first, I know how careful you’re being with your dad and all.” She wrung her hands together as she waited for Emma’s response. 

Harriet looked so nervous Emma didn’t want to crush her hopes, but it was safer for Harriet to stay away from the Martins. “Doesn’t he work at Tesco? I think it’d be too risky for me to see you after you’d seen him. It’s up to you of course, but...” Emma trailed off, looking at Harriet with a concerned expression.

Emma instantly felt guilty when Harriet stopped meeting her gaze and looked down squarely at her trainers. “He’s way out of your league anyway, you can do so much better.” Emma had never really understood the appeal of dating, but that’s what Emma always said to her friends to cheer them up when they were trying to get over someone. 

If hanging out with Emma was really so boring that Harriet was considering spending time with Robbie Martin then Emma really needed to up her game. “Tell you what, I’ll set you up on a video date with someone from uni. Boys who stay at home with their families are so immature. They don’t learn life skills if their mum is doing their laundry.” She laughed, trying to push Robbie to the back of Harriet’s mind. She mentally combed through her single friends and acquaintances until she remembered that one of her housemates recently became single and would be perfect for Harriet. “You’ll love Elton, he’s studying philosophy and he’s super hot.”

She set the plan in motion by adding Harriet to their uni group chat, posting pictures of Harriet all over her Instagram story and scheduling a video call her wifi will ‘accidentally’ cut out on. 

  
  


\----

  
  


On a sunny day in June, they ventured out to the lake for a day of studying, coordinating their picnic food so it felt like they were sharing it even as they sat on different blankets. Emma lay on her stomach as she browsed her biology textbook, absentmindedly kicking her legs up in the air before remembering she was supposed to keep them still so Harriet could sketch Emma for her portfolio. Emma’s phone went off but she ignored it in favour of telling Harriet all about Elton and about how romantic it would be if their first date was in Europe. “You can get one of those cute couples paintings along La Rambla in Barcelona and hang it above your mantelpiece when you move in together.” 

When Emma felt her phone buzz a second time she gave Harriet an apologetic look, “It’s probably just my dad telling us to reapply suncream.” 

Harriet just smiled and told her to go ahead, “I’ve already finished your arms so don’t worry.” She bent her head to draw a few more lines, before looking back at Emma. “Say hi to your dad from me.”

Emma’s eyes lit up as she read the text and she wiggled her eyebrows at Harriet. “Speak of the devil, it’s Elton. He’s probably only texting because he knows I’ll be with you right now and is too embarrassed to text you himself.” Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

  
  


_hey beautiful, what you up to? :)_

_lockdown is so boring ha_

_My dear friend Harriet is drawing me, she’s an AMAZING artist_

_naked? ;)_

_No, why would I be naked lol, I’m in the middle of a park_

_just thought you’d make a beautiful life model_

_must be a beautiful drawing if you’re in it_

_It’s stunning she’s done a great job_

_send me a pic_

When Harriet finished, Emma sent him a picture of Harriet holding up the drawing. She looked stunning with a few wispy strands of blond hair framing her face, the noon sun streaming through it so it looked like she was surrounded by a halo. 

_gorgeous_

Harriet beamed when Emma read out Elton’s reply and sent Emma a notification screenshot a few hours later.

_@theelton is following you_

For the first time in months, Emma felt a tiny bubble of hope.


End file.
